This girl could end me.
I’d suspected it the moment I saw her. Known it the moment I’d seen her work.
Talented. Beautiful. Sharp. Sexy.
I wanted it all.
There were so many reasons this couldn’t happen. She worked for me. I only had sex with women; I didn’t do relationships. I’d recited them silently again and again.
I pulled back and she looked up at me, mouth open. I placed my hands against the wall on either side of her head.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m your boss.”
“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, I’ll be filing my sexual harassment claim in the morning.” She reached into my pants and wrapped her fingers around my hardening cock. “You might as well make this count.”
I smirked. She was going to keep me on my toes.
As I pulled open the tie of her robe, the silk slipped from her shoulders. Sweeping my hands across her skin, I avoided her breasts, then trailed down her stomach to her neatly trimmed pussy. I paused.
She arched her back, pushing her body toward me, wanting more.
“But you hate me,” I teased.
“Let’s see what you can do to change my mind.” She pressed her hand against mine, pushing my fingers into her dampness.
She had no idea what I had planned for her and how long I’d been planning it.
An almost transient afterthought, I slid my lips against hers. And despite my fantasies, I found myself sliding to my knees. I needed to know I could make her as crazy as she did me. I tried to pull her leg over my shoulder but she resisted, encouraging me to stand up.
“Did you forget who’s the boss?” I asked.
“In the office, maybe.”
Forcefully, I pushed her back against the wall and lifted her leg. I knew once she felt my tongue she’d relent. And I was right. I always was. She thrust her hips forward and slid her leg down my back as my tongue flicked over her clit, once, then twice. If she thought I wasn’t the boss in the bedroom, she was sorely mistaken.
I curled a hand around one hip and with the other pressed my palm against her flat stomach as I licked from her clit down to the source of her wetness, enjoying her sweet taste. There was so much of it. As if she’d been wet for me since we first met. Her nails dug into my scalp as her pussy pulsed against me. I couldn’t remember the last time I went down on a woman, and right at that moment, I couldn’t remember it ever tasting this good, this warm, this wet.
Despite my holding her, she seemed to be having a hard time standing up straight.
“I can’t,” she cried out.
I got the feeling there was nothing Harper couldn’t do if she put her mind to it, but I wasn’t about to argue with her. I stood and she looked at me, half dazed, half disappointed. Before she had a chance to tell me again how much she hated me, I hoisted her over my shoulder and carried her into my bedroom.
I tipped her onto the bed, her chestnut hair splaying out around her. I grabbed her by the legs and parted her firm thighs, pushing my fingers into her while my tongue circled her clit. She cried out, lifting her hips off the bed. I grabbed her waist and pulled her toward me. She wasn’t going anywhere without an orgasm to remember me by. Jesus, just a few minutes ago I’d been coming up with strategies to spend less time with her and now here she was naked on my bed, coating my hand and tongue with her juices.
She let out small whimpers and incoherent sounds about noise and neighbors and chandeliers. I couldn’t follow what she was saying. All I cared about was her sweet, hot pussy around my tongue. Her breaths grew sharper and her whole body began to shudder, her movements becoming wild before she cried out, “Max!” Hearing my name on her lips while she climaxed pierced a hole in armor I didn’t realize I wore, and suddenly I didn’t care that I was her boss or that I had a reputation to protect, a family to focus on. I was so overwhelmingly attracted to her and right then it was the only thing that mattered. I nearly came right with her.
Her panting slowed and she reached out. I should ask her to leave, stop this before it was too late, but instead I took her hand and climbed up next to her.
I rolled to my back, needing to focus on something other than the swell of her tight breasts, the way her body sank against my bedsheets, on my bed, in my apartment.
She was here. Exactly where she shouldn’t be.
“Oh my God.” Her arm flopped onto my chest. “Forbes was right when they said you were talented.”
I couldn’t stop the chuckle that rose from my throat. I turned to see her rolling to her side, apparently oblivious of how bizarre this scenario was. She kissed my jaw, and I tried not to look at her, afraid I’d never be able to look away.